Dual Negotiations
by LadyRavena
Summary: Another simple negotiation just wasn't in the numbers for Voss Parck and Admiral Thrawn. Complete.


Dual Negotiations

_By LadyRavena_

**Part One**

The briefing report was succinct and well-planned. After his second reading, Admiral Thrawn still held the datapad in his hand, musing over the contents. The negotiations were looking propitious for both parties. The Ayatollah of the two planets was easy enough to deal with, with little in the way of duplicitous talk or hidden agendas. He was, in fact, a refreshingly direct creature to talk with, especially after having to deal with the Emperor's little mind games at court.

All of which was why the note at the bottom of the screen puzzled the Chiss admiral all the more:

_I would recommend recalling the _Cascade_ before the signing ceremony. V.P._

Setting down the datapad, he quietly keyed in a request to the command chef for a semi-formal dinner in his private dining room. Perhaps over dinner his newly reinstated Captain would explain his vagueness.

****

Swirling the last of the dessert brandy in his tumbler, Voss Parck needn't guess what was on his commander's mind. 'Wine and dine' was a rare tactic with Thrawn, but it was useful on occasion. Voss never complained, as he did enjoy his friend's company, and it gave the chef a chance to experiment. The note was bound to come up in after dinner conversation, Thrawn being averse to raising work over dinner.

"The negotiations seem to be concluding well, don't you think?" Thrawn idly asked, leaning back in the recliner.

"Oh, indeed, yes." Voss sipped a bit more of the brandy, wondering what all fruit had wandered into it. _I can play at vague, too, you know._

"So well, in fact, the _Hunter_ can go back to normal duties tomorrow. We don't the third ship for a simple signing ceremony in two days. Don't you agree?"

Voss smirked a bit. _So if we don't need three, why bring in another..._ "I don't think we need that _particular_ ship, no. Captain Hilran has been chopping at the bit to get back out to exploring the area."

Thrawn's eyes narrowed at his specification. "So you would prefer a smaller ship there, perhaps the _Cascade,_ then?"

Voss nodded. "The _Cascade_ should be there, yes, but not for the size. As you know, these people are highly addicted to the numbers of everything. Numeric significance plays a high role in their society."

"Hence why these negotiations took so long to complete," Thrawn muttered, draining the last of the drink in his hand. "I am quite familiar with that aspect of the culture."

Voss nodded, smiling slightly. They had had to wait until a favourable turn of the planet's only orbiting body, combined with the stars movement to precise angles...enough to give poor Dagon a migraine of frustration. It seemed that Thrawn wasn't that impressed, either. "Intel informed me when they gave me that report that the signing team should also be numerically balanced, meaning that there should be two high-ranking officials at the meeting."

Thrawn, long fingers still twirling the tumbler slowly, frowned. "I believe those Captain's bars aren't so new as to not be used. You will accompany me to this meeting, then." At Voss's head shake, he sighed. "What numerological taboo did I just tread on now?"

"Balance, sir. Two officers, two ships, and the captain of the _Cascade_ will be much more appropriate than I, as I am your flagship's Captain."

And with that, he refused to elaborate.

***

The private comm beeped on his chair's arm. Shutting off the art displays for the time being, Thrawn acknowledged the call. Striding down the slightly long way to the shuttle bay gave him a chance to study the moral of the crew, and the general 'feel' of the ship. He tried to make the rounds at least once a week at random times, to keep moral up and mischief down. Nothing was worse to a commander than a crew that didn't believe in their officers.

By the time he arrived in the admiral's shuttle bay, there were at least a dozen straightened spines, and moral was rising again. Despite the importance of treaties and agreements, his crew did prefer to be out amongst the stars, not constantly in orbit around fickle worlds.

The shuttle from the _Cascade_ landed smoothly as he came up behind Voss. The captain looked up from the datapad that he was perusing. "There has been a change in command since the last time that she has been at base, sir. Captain Korda retired a month ago and left the ship to his first officer."

"Retired?" Thrawn asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That's what the records are saying. In fact, he went space-mad and tried to kill his second officer, whom he claimed was plotting," Parck checked his file, "to '_steal his soul and origami it into a flower_'."

"Retired," Thrawn confirmed, shaking his head. The odd officer did go once around the Maw on occasion. "The new captain's name?"

"Captain Squires. Did quite well in the academy, as I recall. We took a few classes together." Parck shut the datapad off as the ramp of the shuttle started its descent. Stepping forward, one step behind Thrawn as they went to greet the newcomer, he smiled slightly.

Four steps behind the honour guard of stormtroppers stepped the newest Captain of the _Cascade_. Captain Gwena Squires reached a hand out to Thrawn, smiling slightly as she said, "A pleasure to meet you, Admiral."

**Part Two**

Captain Squires was not a woman to mince words. She had persevered through a male dominated navy to rise in rank high enough to make it to the bridge. Bluntness had served her well in the past to silence males who thought that all females had smaller brains, and less ability to command. Which wasn't to say that she didn't have tact or politeness; it was something that she realized she would need now.

"I presume that Parck told you about the duality of the negotiations, sir?" she asked, standing amongst the art of the planet revolving beneath them.

"In that we need two high ranking officers, and from different ships, he did. However, if you have something to add, Captain?" Thrawn settled back into the command chair duplicate, fingers interlaced, eyes half closed, waiting for the shard of knowledge that he knew she possessed.

"Indeed, but it is just not the rank that is the issue." At Thrawn's raised eyebrow and Parck inability to meet her eyes, she smiled. "Ah, I see. Voss was too shy to point out that if you go down alone on the planet, the Ayatollah would try to give you a wife."

She wondered how he could go from calm and in control to barely controlled anger in under a second. "It's not slavery, if you are worried about that," she added offhandedly, walking amongst the statues.

"What would you call it, then, Captain?" Thrawn hissed softly.

"Traditional, sir, in that visiting single leaders are considered at a loss for a partner amongst their own people. In ancient times, agreements of trade, such as what we are doing, were sealed in marriage. It was not uncommon for a ruler of a large area to have several mates from his allies. The women agree to do this voluntarily, sir. It is considered a great honour to aid in the peace of the people."

She paused, and then added, "Hence why I am here. To refuse a bride of peace is to refuse the peace treaty and insult the host, resulting in mandatory war. Therefore, the best way to keep this treaty is for you to appear with a wife. I'm the best choice, as I am the highest ranking female in the next three sectors."

The comm rang into the stillness. "Captain Squires? Communication from the _Cascade_ for you."

Thrawn nodded toward the rear holo-projector. "Captain?"

"Pipe it down here, Lieutenant." With a nod to the admiral, she moved to the pad.

Thrawn turned around his chair to face his captain once she was deep in conversation with her second in command. "You knew this, didn't you, Parck." It wasn't a question.

Parck shifted his feet, looking just over his admiral's shoulder. "Yes, sir." Thrawn shook his head, muttering something that sounded like '_one more thing'._ Smiling slightly, Parck reached over to the main computer console. "She's going to have to look the part. In uniform, she's just another solider at the table. I believe Supplies and Requisitions has several items for civilian formal wear."

"Indeed." Fingers moving over the console, the two were scanning rapidly through several promising items when Captain Squires closed the channel. She could see one of the holo-projectors flicking back and forth between images of formal wear, from jacket and pant ensembles to full ballroom gowns.

Voss reached out and hit the pause just as she got to the outer ring of projectors. "Perhaps that one," he murmured.

Looking over the item in question, she sniffed. "I don't think that taffeta is your fabric, sir, and pink will clash with your eyes. But, if you think that you can carry it off, it's all yours."

Parck silent laughter underscored Thrawn's quiet voice. "I presume then that you have something more suitable, Captain?"

She bowed, turned sharply and left the command room.

**Part Three**

The shuttle was undergoing final prep work before Admiral Thrawn's party boarded. Voices rang out throughout the shuttle bay, confirming fuel stats and pre-launch checks. Captain Voss Parck stood just inside, awaiting the admiral, engrossed in a datapad of final details of the signing ceremony. The Ayatollah was insisting that certain protocols be followed even before the shuttle landed. Approach vectors, speed frequencies, rate of descent...everything beside how many breaths that the pilot took were included in the briefing.

"Captain," Thrawn greeted, startling Voss out of his reverie. Dressed in full dress uniform, the Chiss admiral was a picture of perfect officer: straight-backed, broad shoulders and uniform hanging properly and evenly; Voss was faintly envious. "Is my shuttle ready?"

"Almost, sir, just a few more pre-check ..." Parck stuttered to a halt, looking over the admiral's shoulder.

Turning around, Thrawn saw exactly what had his captain tongue-tied...and he agreed with Parck.

Captain Gwena Squires stepped off the boarding ramp of the shuttle. She was dressed in a formal gown suitable for court on the Imperial capital, sleeves reaching in a point to her ring finger, train meeting the deck plates. Dark folds of midnight cerulean contrasted with the faint silver jewellery at her throat and wrist. Upswept hair, with a delicate tiara interwoven in the curls, framed her face. Stepping forward, the slight click of her step revealing the heels she wore, she lifted one eyebrow at the silent officers.

"Shall we be leaving, sir?"


End file.
